


Snow Ralph And The King Who Shagged His Mother

by deeo



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Snow White Fusion, Complete crack, Jack is a sex-crazed maniac, M/M, Maurice is in love with a ball, Parody, Piggy and the other boys are hobbits, Ralph is a lil prick, Roger is theoretically asexual, Simon is half-deer, it's my wackiest story yet, this is all levels of fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:20:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7511621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deeo/pseuds/deeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Prince Ralph is deemed the most beautiful person in the entire kingdom by the enchanted mirror, the evil king Jack Merridew knows he has to do something about it. And it's not something good.</p><p>A different take on the original 'Snow White' fairy tale, with a ridiculous and perverted plot twist.</p><p>On short: it's complete crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Ralph And The King Who Shagged His Mother

The king restlessly paced, his long robe trailing behind him, colouring the floor in blood red. He stopped in his tracks and turned towards the large mirror that covered the wall in the centre of the room.

"I'm sick of asking you this foolish question!" He lashed out, wrathful. "I don't care who is more beautiful, at least tell me who is more powerful and then I will actually want to kill that person!"

An eerie mask shaped itself near the surface of the mirror.

"That is not my job, your highness. My job and your most important preoccupation should be finding out who is the most beautiful in the kingdom and destroying that person."

Jack felt like ripping his hair out. He just didn't bloody care who was more beautiful than him. He already knew that most people in the kingdom surpassed him in this.

"Can I at least ask who has the largest peni-"

The water at the surface of the mirror distorted for a moment, as if someone had thrown pebbles in it.

"No, my king!" The voice exclaimed in shock and terror. "Just do what I'm telling you or else your position as king will be threatened!"

Jack grunted annoyed.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall," He began, bored, "Who is the fairest of them all?"

The mirror responded, pleased.

"You are not the most beautiful, my king. By far. In fact you're one of the least beauti-"

"Alright, can you just skip this part," Jack interrupted, the corners of his mouth curling downwards in revolt, "Why the fuck did you even make me ask this question when you're telling me all this stupid shi-"

"In fact," The mirror covered his voice, a note of exasperation in its tone at the king's constantly dreadful language, "The most beautiful person in the entire kingdom is the fair Snow Ralph." The water swirled inside the glass to form the image of a bright, golden-haired young boy, who was smiling radiantly at no one in particular. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"What, my step-son?" He inquired, not exactly surprised. "I know he's pretty boy. I've wanted to tap his sweet ars-"

The mirror loudly cleared its voice.

" _-posterior_ ," Jack changed the word, throwing the glass a wary look, "Ever since the beginning. Too bad they don't allow same-sex marriages. I had to marry his older mother instead. She was quite good in bed though, sweet ars-"

The mirror cleared its voice louder this time.

"- _posterior_ , too." Jack grumbled.

"You have to kill him."

"Why? Is he more powerful than me? If that's the issue, then I will kill him indeed. If not, why in the bloody hell would I bother?" Jack requested.

"Because that's how the story goes!" The mirror retaliated furious, at the end of its patience. "Do it or you will be removed from the throne!" Jack's stomach curled with worry for one quick moment. He couldn't risk not being king anymore. That was his whole purpose in life.

"Fine, fine." He put his hands up in defense. "Devil, you're moody."

…

Roger, the hunter, was very good at hunting. Not as good as his king though. Still, his king had discovered that he liked being king better than being hunter, and so Roger had to do all his dirty work.

He was though absolutely ecstatic when he heard that his king wanted him to hunt a person this time.

"Just stab him or what else pleases you." His king lazily ordered, feet prompted up on a stool, a harem of young girls and boys fussing around him. "You see, I will soon start my marathon of shagging the oblivion out of these pretty lasses, so I don't want you to disturb me unless you bring me proof that you've done your job." He suddenly grabbed a pretty blonde-haired girl by the neck and shoved his tongue into her mouth.

Roger twisted his face in revulsion at his king's promiscuous nature. He couldn't understand how he was so successful in this area, given that he wasn't that beautiful. Maybe because he had that eight-pack that he prided himself on, as he always let his chest bare underneath his open robes, so that everyone could see it.

"It's because of my large penis." His king retorted, pulling his tongue out of the third person by then. "I know what you're thinking, Roger. And I know you're jealous, but I will not fuck you. You're too creepy for me."

"I don't want you to fuck me, my king." Roger replied monotonously.

"Yes, you do." The king retorted smugly, putting his hands behind his neck. "Everyone wants me to fuck them."

"How should I kill Snow Ralph, my king?" Roger changed the subject, already irritated.

"I don't know." The king replied uninterested. "Just kill him and bring me a part of his body."

Roger's mind raced, visions of him slaughtering the pretty blonde prince quickly passing in front of his eyes. This was going to be a good hunt.

"Should I bring you his heart?" Roger questioned enthusiastically.

The king stopped from groping a younger boy's posterior.

"No." He grinned. "Bring me his head. I have some in things in mind that I would like to do with his head."

Roger was slightly taken aback. Sometimes his king was even more thrillingly disgusting than he was.

…

It wasn't that difficult finding the blonde-haired lad apparently. He was quite noisy and he constantly played with a ball, bouncing it against every possible surface, even going to the point where he hit other people in the face with it, before yelling 'sucks to your bloody nose!' and laughing.

Roger had expected him to be quite level-headed and quiet, like most princes were, but he was a little prick, in all honesty. He wondered what his age was. He mustn't have been older than fifteen.

He decided that spying on him first would be better. He needed to learn this boy's customs and weaknesses so that the hunting would be more satisfying to him. Learning about his victims was always a plus.

On the third day, the little prick hit him in the face with the ball and laughed in his face. He then disappeared into the forest. Roger seethed with fury. That was it. He was going to thrive on slowly massacring him.

After reaching the depths of the forest, he heard a wonderful voice. It was flowing and melodious and the hunter's heart ached. He pondered the possibility of the voice belonging to the little fair-haired prick. Following the voice, he reached a clearing.

The fair-haired prick was there. But he was not alone, no. He was surrounded by a crowd of animals. From mice and swallows and doves, to squirrels and does and bears. Roger frowned when he saw the prince talking to those animals, getting as reply all sorts of growls and chirps; blondie pretended to understand them.

He was even more lunatic than Roger had suspected. Preparing his set of knives, he approached the little prick, but then the voice started singing again. Roger blinked confused and looked at the blonde boy, but he saw that the voice was not coming from him. In fact, it came from a deer that was sitting right beside the prince.

But the deer wasn't exactly a deer. The upper half was human, and the most beautiful human that Roger had ever seen. It was another young boy, dark, luscious skin, big green eyes, ebony hair. He had leaves in his hair, and Roger knew that this creature couldn't be earthly. His voice tore Roger's soul apart. He had always wanted someone to sing duets with. His king had been his previous singing partner, but he renounced both singing and hunting after becoming powerful.

Roger pushed aside the little blonde prick, who yelped and protested.

"Please let me sing with you, oh magnificent creature!" He fell at the feet of the deer-boy. The deer-boy innocently blinked at him, before smiling warmly and lifting Roger's chin.

"You don't have to kneel in front of me, pale young human." The deer-boy retorted. "The name that I go by is Simon, and I will be your singing partner for the rest of your life, if that's what you want me to be."

And Roger teared and forgot about his mission and they both sung until the end of time.

The fair prince's lower lip trembled in sorrow when he saw the deer-boy betray him, choosing the creepy boy's companionship over his. But he refused to cry. He just took a part of the group of animals with him and carried on his lonely road, while bouncing his ball.

…

The prince woke in a small bed, a while later. He looked around him and saw a group of small people surrounding the bed, looking at him in curiosity. They seemed to be dwarfs, but they didn't have the usual dwarf constitution. In fact, they had normal dimensions, they just seemed to be smaller in size. The only differences were their large and hairy feet.

"We are the seven hobbits." One fat, little boy spoke. He wore glasses and carried a book under his arm. "We are actually more than seven in number, but we like that title, it sounds good. My name is Peter, but people nickname me Piggy. I wish for you to not call me that though." The rest of the hobbits howled with laughter, along with Ralph. He pointed at the little, fat hobbit.

"Your name is Piggy! Piggy!" He waved his arms around and jumped on the bed like a little kid. The rest of the hobbits stopped as Ralph seemed to have a stroke, crying with laughter. He grabbed at his sides and his face reddened, coughing when he was left without air.

When Ralph calmed down, Piggy continued.

"We have been trying to light a fire for years now, but we have never succeeded. We thought that maybe you could help us. You are human and bigger than us, and maybe you can persuade my partners into being more working and diligent, as I cannot convince them into doing anything, since they never want to listen to me." The fat hobbit complained. Ralph threw a quick glance at the rest of the boys. Two of them were identical.

"They're the Samneric twins." Piggy explained. "They go as one entity. The rest don't want to speak up their names. Only Percival keeps crying and screeching his name all day." Ralph watched as an even smaller hobbit sheepishly waved at him, face all blotched and eyes glassy and red.

"And what do you want me to do?" Ralph doubtfully questioned. "I'm not used to being in charge. Back at home, some other person was always in charge. First my mum, now my daddy."

Piggy raised an eyebrow.

"Daddy?"

"My daddy who is actually just three years older than me." The hobbits 'ooh-ed' and waggled their eyebrows and elbowed each other. Ralph frowned confused.

"He is my step-father, you idiots. He married my mum. "

The hobbits groaned in disappointment.

"But my mum went to heaven a while ago." He sighed.

The hobbits elbowed each other again.

"Alright, so can you help us or not?" Piggy inquired, interrupting the perverted noises the hobbits were making. "You are the most beautiful creature that we have ever seen. So you need to be our leader."

Ralph shrugged.

"I suppose so."

The golden prince quickly took matters into his hands. With the help of his animal friends and the hobbits, the household was quickly as new. Sparkling clean, beds all made, furniture all properly placed. The fire was finally lit, but one hobbit had died in the process. They made his funeral, but Ralph quickly forgot about it the second day, for he had a short attention and memory-span.

The hobbits eventually ended up loving the golden prince. He had become their guidance, their most beautiful and prized possession.

"What do you say, do we fool around with him in bed or not, aye?" Sam asked one day, during one hobbit conference. Eric and few other hobbits nodded, excited. Piggy scrunched up his nose.

"I don't know, he's way too pretty for me."

The other hobbits groaned.

"Come on, we cannot let this opportunity slip through our fingers!" One of the littluns exclaimed. They all threw him odd looks.

"No, not you, young ones." Eric retorted, a bit disgusted. "Only us. The big ones."

There were protests, but the older hobbits reached the conclusion that they would eventually mess with the gorgeous, young prince, for his arse and body were too sweet to let him go unruffled.

They decided to politely ask him first, though.

…

"I should have known Roger was too weird to accomplish this mission." Jack commented, watching the surface of the mirror in slight distaste. The glass showed the young hunter and his newest companion, blissfully singing a duet.

"He thinks I'm odd for my lewd escapades. And yet he wants to fuck a deer." He mocked.

"With all due respect, your highness," The mirror interfered, "I think your follower is not into anything of sexual nature. He is just content singing with his new friend." Jack scoffed incredulous.

"You mean to say he is asexual? By all devils, that is impossible!"

"It is not impossible, your highness." The mirror patiently continued. "It's just the opposite of what you are, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

Jack started pacing again, pondering over the idea of executing Roger for betraying him. He decided to let it slip for the time being, for he had more important issues to solve right then.

"I have to do it myself after all, don't I?" He questioned annoyed. "What are my choices?"

The mirror swirled again to form the image of a ripe, red apple.

"Poison. You disguise yourself as an old man, so that the prince doesn't suspect you. And you offer him a poisoned apple."

Jack was disappointed.

"Well, that is quite a pathetic method. Although it is probably the safest one, I suppose." The king retaliated, thoughtful. He snapped his fingers. Two servants, a boy and a girl, entered. They were scantily clad and they regarded the king in a seductive manner.

When they approached, the king put his hand up to stop them.

"No, not now. Bring me my cauldron." The two servants looked genuinely shocked for a moment and even the usually stoic mask in the mirror seemed to be slightly perplexed.

"What?" The king asked defensive. He looked around and groaned when he realized the reason for their surprise.

"Oh, for devil's sake, I don't _always_ want to put my dick into someone!"

…

Maurice didn't want to be there. He had been threatened by his father and told that he would be disowned and removed from his kingdom if he didn't find a consort as soon as possible.

Months ago, the dark-skinned prince had left in the search of a person that would fit as his bride. It didn't matter whether that person was male or female. Maurice would still be the groom anyways.

But then he got lost. After roaming through lost lands, through deserts and mountains, he found himself in this apparently abandoned forest. He had even lost his horse too, due to some gambling he had gotten himself into a while ago. He could never resist gambling, which is why he always put himself and everyone around in trouble. It was also the reason his father's kingdom was in ruins. Maurice was all to blame.

That's why he had been threatened by his father to find someone wealthy, someone whose fortune was great, so that he could save their kingdom.

When Maurice saw the boy, he was mesmerized. His skin was fair as snow and his hair was bright as sunlight. He had ocean-blue eyes that Maurice could drown in. His cheeks were rosy and his smile was lighting the whole world around him.

But even more beautiful, _the most beautiful_ was the ball in the boy's hands. Maurice's heart stopped. He knew the ball was the one. He knew he had to have it, as soon as possible. But it seemed the ball belonged to the boy, for the boy held it and his clear laugh echoed in the forest. The ball appeared to be happy with the boy, because it always returned to him, every time the boy bounced it into the trees around.

Maurice tried to stop the heartbreak that was crumpling him. He tried to stop the tears that threatened to fall on his cheeks. He swallowed the knot in his throat and approached the boy.

"Hello," He tentatively greeted. The boy stopped bouncing the ball and Maurice fell even more in love, seeing the small, round object from that close.

"Do you wish to gamble for that ball?" The dark-haired prince inquired, downhearted and desperate. "I promise I will bet my life for it, just _please_ , let me try to win it!" He fell to his knees. He knew this would bring his end, but he knew he couldn't live if he didn't have the ball.

The blonde boy gazed at him with a bewildered look. He then sighed and put a hand on the prince's shoulder.

"You don't have to bet your life for it." The golden boy responded. "It is time for me to finally mature and depart from this precious object that has been my companion for the most part of my life. We had good times together, but I feel like I have to move on." Maurice looked up at him in wonder.

"So I will offer you this ball as a token of my kindness." Maurice stared in astonishment and deep gratitude, brown eyes filled with tears. Kissing the ball one last time, the fair-haired boy passed it to the kneeling prince, who took the ball and exploded with warmth and joy. Real tears fell on his cheeks this time. He then looked up at the golden boy once again and his face contorted with devotion.

"I promise I will help you in your greatest time of need, every time from now on, until the end of the time, oh beautiful, beautiful boy."

Ralph smiled gently.

"And I deeply thank you for your oath, my good friend."

…

Ralph was reading on his small bed inside the cottage, when there was a knock at the window. He knew the hobbits wouldn't return so soon from their mining. He slowly closed the book, then approached, hesitant. On the other side, there was a seemingly harmless old man, crooked and dressed in an old and battered cloak.

The prince opened the door and smiled welcoming.

"Good day, sir! Do you need any help?"

The old man smiled a crooked smile and lifted his eyes towards the prince, and the fair-haired boy was a bit unnerved by the ice blue in his gaze. He couldn't say for sure, but he had a feeling he had seen those eyes before.

"Oh, I jus' need ta rest a lil', me boy." The old man grinned, his voice raspy and weak. Ralph's smile faded into an uncertain one, but he just tried to dismiss the bad feeling that he had in his gut. What evil could have occurred? He was just a helpless man.

The boy fervently nodded then helped the man and steered him towards one of the small beds to let him rest for a while. He still felt uneasy under his intense scrutiny and he fidgeted and looked around for something to entertain them.

"Ya look goode, me boy." The old man started, licking his lips with thirst. "Real han'some and pretty." Ralph squirmed and felt his neck go warm.

"Um, I'm sorry, I'm just-"

„Ya been maturing too," He carried on, his eyes glinting. "Ya ripe now and ya not a lil' pricke anymoore."

Ralph gulped, sweating. That was beyond odd. He intended to guide the old man out, but he still couldn't bring himself to do it. He still felt pity for him. Maybe he was just a poor lunatic, his minds beyond lost into the shadows of his past.

"Lemme repay ya with some goode praise for helpin' a goode ol' man out," The old man dug his bony and calloused hand into the pocket of his black robe to pull out a beautiful and red apple that shone under the light in the room. The golden boy's eyes shimmered at the sight of the wonderful fruit. He hadn't eaten apples in months, ever since he had left the palace. He eagerly thanked the man and took it from his hands, before admiring it for a moment. Then he bit into it.

Low, wicked laughter suddenly broke the silence. The prince looked at the old man confused for a moment, before his breath got stuck into his throat along with the piece of apple.

He choked and grabbed and clawed at his throat, but he couldn't breathe. He had been poisoned, tricked. He fell to the floor, convulsing and writhing and with one last ounce of strength he managed to look up, to see the old man, who gradually turned taller and taller. His white hair turned fiery, his dead eyes brightened, his skin smoothened.

He towered then over Ralph's fading form, clenching his fists in triumph and loudly cackling, and the last thing the prince saw was the menacing figure of the king himself, roaring against the dark background of the terrifying storm from outside the window.

"Now I, Jack Merridew, will be king _for all eternity_!"

…

Jack had some doubts regarding his most recent act. First, because he saw the hobbits approaching the cottage outside the window. Second, because he could still kidnap Ralph and use him as sex-toy. He wasn't exactly dead, just half-dead, so he told himself it wasn't necrophilia. He still couldn't let that fine piece of arse escape him. And it wasn't rape either. No, it wasn't. Was it?

" _It is."_ A voice spoke into his head. It was the voice of the mirror. He couldn't place it, but it seemed to be coming from his mind. He swatted at the air, as if a pesky fly was bothering him.

"Go away! Can't I just have my moment of glory without you interrupting me? How in the bloody hell did you get into my head anyways?"

" _Because I am you. I am your greed, your wrath, your lust, your envy, your-"_

"Alright, I've got it, you're my sins. By all devils," The king started feeling remorse, which wasn't good. He had to get rid of it. But he also found out something else.

That mirror didn't exactly have any powers over him. It had all been in his head. There were no conditions for him, in order to remain a king. On short, he might have been utterly bonkers.

" _Get rid of the body before they see you with him. Or get out, now."_

Jack frowned when he realized that the voice was now coming from a pig-head placed at the end of the room. It was quite creepy, how the hobbits would collect such things, but the hobbits were odd creatures. It also seemed that his inner evil voice apparently had the talent to attach itself to various things around, to become a host.

When he decided what to do, it was too late. The hobbits burst through the door and exclaimed in agony at the sight of their fallen prince. They were soaked and miserable and crying, and most of them barely noticed Jack. He tried to sneak around them, but then a fat, short hobbit suddenly pointed at him and yelled outraged.

"Him! Him, the evil and perverted king Jack Merridew, he killed our beloved prince! Avenge Snow Ralph! Get the king!"

They all jumped on him. Jack would have easily overpowered them, if they had been fewer. But they were too many. He was buried under the wrath of the hobbits.

"Wait, wait!" He yelled, as he punched and threw them around. "I've realized that I've made a great mistake! I don't actually want him dead either!" Some of the hobbits stopped, but most were still unconvinced, though their attack wasn't as fierce.

"This is my truth, I promise you!" The king insisted. "I've realized that I need him alive in order to claim his sweet arse!"

The choice of words hadn't been good, because the hobbits started attacking him again.

"His arse is not yours to claim, but ours!" Some of the hobbits yelled. "Ours!"

The battle had then turned into a fight over the fair prince's posterior, so precious that it had soon become known as the most valuable asset in kingdoms all over the world.

The king struggled and fought and he managed to crawl underneath the swarm of hobbits who still believed they were whooping his arse. He wiped his forehead, but the fat hobbit spotted him again.

"He escaped us!" The hobbit screeched. "Go after him!"

The king grunted irked. He had in mind to plan a mass murder for these hobbits once he returned to the palace.

But for the time being he just intended to run as far as his legs could get him.

…

The prince was lying in a crystal coffin at the top of the highest hill in the kingdom. He looked even more beautiful, his clothing offering him an angelic pallor. Though the prince hadn't been by far angelic, he had been mostly an innocent child and he hadn't deserved it.

Tears trailed down Piggy's face. His friends sniffled around, flowers in hands, then slowly approached, one by one, to place them at the base of the coffin. Animals mourned, howling and hollering in grief. Everyone was devastated by the young prince's ill fortune.

It was then that a wisp of hope sparked through them. Because at the bottom of the hill, another prince made his appearance. He was tall and dark and he seemed to be in great anguish at the sight of the fair prince's lifeless form.

After reaching the top, he gave a loud, dramatic wail. The hobbits flinched, a little bit embarrassed by his silly reaction.

"He was my friend, too!" The dark prince sniffed. "He helped me in great need and I promised I would always be there to help him back, but I wasn't this time!" Tears drowned his eyes. He turned towards the hobbits. "Can't anything be done to bring him back again?" He exclaimed.

Piggy stepped forward, downhearted. "Something can. He can only be brought back by the true love's kiss." The hobbits grouched and whined, discontented.

"My friends are unhappy, because we have kissed him, one by one, but he hasn't woken up to any of us." The whines got louder. Maurice couldn't help but feel a twinge of disgust at the fact that an entire army of hobbits had kissed the unconscious boy.

He himself wasn't in love with the beautiful boy. The boy was his friend, the one who had saved Maurice from heartbreak and offered him his true love: the ball that he always carried with him. But he knew he had to help him. Maybe someone human could truly wake the golden prince.

And so Maurice lightly touched his lips to the fair boy's. Everyone was holding their breath. There were barely any sounds anymore, apart from the chirps of a few birds.

Nothing happened. No reaction, no movement. The prince was still as cold as snow. Everyone broke into cries and yells.

"He is gone forever!" The hobbits bawled.

All of a sudden, Maurice was pushed aside by the king himself. The dark-haired prince tumbled down the hill along with his ball, yelping and shouting.

"I didn't even want to be here anyways! I'm just the comic relief!"

No one paid him attention. For the king was there, still terrifying, despite his worn out look. He appeared as if he'd run miles through the woods. Leaves were tangled within his messy hair, his cloak and clothes were torn, and he had scratches all over him. He wasn't fazed by it though.

"The prince will wake up to me!" He boomed, as arrogant as ever.

The hobbits revolted, pulling out wooden sticks.

"Get the fuck out of here or we'll beat you to death with these sticks!" Percival screeched. Everyone was quite impressed by his viciousness. Even the king gaped for a moment at the little cry-baby hobbit.

"I will not!" The king responded, approaching. "You must trust me! The prince will wake up to me, for he loves me!"

The hobbits raged.

"Why would he love you?" The hobbits exclaimed. "You're the one who killed him!"

The king threw them an exasperated look.

"He calls me daddy, doesn't he?"

The hobbits stopped for a moment, hesitant. They looked at each other.

"He _does_ call him daddy." One of the twins piped up. The hobbits turned to the king again.

"Fine!" They decided. "We will let you try. But if you fail, you will find your doom, evil and perverted king Jack Merridew!"

The king nodded.

He then slowly approached the coffin. Snow Ralph was gorgeous and the king knew he wouldn't fail. He would finally get his hands on the golden boy, because that's what he'd wanted to do ever since his eyes first fell on him. He'd jerked off so many times thinking about his sweet, round bum, that his balls had gotten raw.  Even then, the idea that he would finally be able to touch it and bury his face in it was starting to make him hard. He shook his head, trying to return to reality. He had to focus on his task.

It had been years of agony. Years in which he hadn't been able to do anything about it, because he'd been married to his mother, and his last trace of dignity stopped him from making any advances on the fair prince. Damn that dignity.

But no one stood in their way now, apart from an army of hobbits that he could easily wipe out. He would finally get that jewel.

He leaned over the prince's form and shoved his tongue into his mouth.

"Ew, he's French kissing him!" One of the hobbits called out.

They all gasped when the prince opened his eyes while he was still being French kissed. He struggled and thrashed and pushed the king away, looking up at him in surprise.

"Daddy?"

A tear fell down Jack's face. He congratulated himself for telling the prince to call him 'daddy' ever since the beginning. It did well to his manhood.

The prince suddenly punched him in the face. Jack backed away and grabbed at his nose, howling in pain.

"Sucks to your bloody nose, bastard!" Ralph yelled furious. He punched him again and the king reeled backwards, then tumbled down the hill, following Maurice's path.

"I also shagged your mother!" Jack shouted vengeful.

Ralph rolled his eyes. He turned towards the little army of hobbits and animals that watched him in awe, tears of joy flooding their eyes.

"You're alive, my prince." Piggy spoke, his voice wavering with emotion. Ralph kindly smiled at them.

"Yes, I am. And I thank you for your loyalty. I promise I will always protect you, from anyone who will try to hurt you."

"Even your future husband?" Eric questioned. He and his brother and a great part of the crowd of hobbits all had equally heartbroken expressions.

Ralph was confused for a moment, but quickly realized what, or more exactly, _whom_ they were referring to. He looked behind him, at the hill the king had just tumbled down.

He turned again and smiled, mischievously this time.

"Even my future husband."

…

The forest was as quiet as ever. Nothing disturbed the peace and the sunlight crept through the thick crowns of the trees, reaching the earth's carpet.

A wonderful melody flowed through the air. Its source was a couple of overjoyed creatures, one human, the other only half human. The couple had just reached their one thousand and thirty second duet.

After the song ended, they adoringly looked at each other. Roger swallowed heavily and told himself that was the moment. He had to take their friendship further.

Tentatively reaching out, he gently grasped the deer-boy's hand with his own. Simon looked at him with big and wondering eyes. Roger lost himself in them. After an hour of gazing into each other's eyes, the hunter finally found his voice again.

"So, what do you know about interspecies lovemaking?"


End file.
